


when you never see the light

by manesalex



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, temporary Michael Guerin/Maria Deluca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: Alex finds a way to undo all the damage that his family has done. But can Michael bear the cost?
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 17
Kudos: 189





	when you never see the light

_**Something’s wrong with Alex.** _

Michael could swear his heart stops when he reads those words. One simple text from Kyle to their group chat. He doesn’t need to ask to know how serious it must be. If Kyle’s telling him, telling _them_ , at all, it means Alex _can’t_ stop him.

“I gotta go,” he shouts over his shoulder as he bolts out of The Wild Pony, picking up into a run toward his truck, only realizing when he starts it that he doesn’t know where he’s going. Alex’s house? The cabin? One of the bunkers?

He glances down at his phone again, ignores the responses, focusing only on Kyle’s next message. _**Cabin bunker.**_

 _Fuck_.

Michael drives as fast as he can, not even noticing the speed limit. Later, he’ll realize how lucky he is that the road was empty, that he didn’t get pulled over. But, on his way there, he can only think of Alex. He can only imagine the worst possible scenarios. Alex dying. Played out in multiple variations in his mind that was already too filled with possible ways Alex could have died when he went off to war.

He stops abruptly next to Kyle’s car, barely parking his truck before he’s jumping out and running up the cabin stairs, in the door. He almost falls trying to make it down that ladder too fast, only skidding to a stop when he sees Alex.

Kyle clearly took the time to move him to the bed, his crutch abandoned on the floor by the wall, the comforter all hiked up beneath him. He’s pale and too still, chest barely moving as he breathes. His dark eyes are open but unseeing. And, in both hands, he has a piece of the console.

“I tried to get it out of his hands so I could take him in, but… It’s like it attached itself to him,” Kyle says, making Michael suddenly aware he’s not alone. “He… Was trying to understand it. The language on it.”

Michael knows he should care why Alex has it, why he hadn’t just given this piece to Michael, had kept it from him, but all he can think about is _Alex_. “What’s happening to him?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m a little bit out of my wheelhouse, you know? Hoping Liz or you would have an idea.”

He shakes his head, but moves quickly to Alex’s side, kneeling on the floor next to him. He brushes Alex’s hair away from his face, frowning at the inhuman heat of Alex’s skin, the light sheen of sweat.

He turns his attention to Alex’s hands, tracing down them and to the piece of the ship.

It lights up under his touch and Alex responds too, letting out the slightest whimper,

Michael moves in closer so he can look, takes in the way the tech is fused to Alex's skin like it’s meant to be there. Almost like it would if he brought it in close proximity to the rest of the console.

“Any ideas?” Kyle asks.

He’s saved from speculating by Liz scrambling down the ladder, looking way too excited for what’s going on. A part of him will understand later, the mystery of it, the questions. But it’s _Alex._

She’s followed closely by Isobel, who looks vaguely bored. “I don’t know why _I’m_ needed here,” she says, examining her nails.

Liz rolls her eyes, but moves to Michael’s side, “What’ve we got, Mikey?” And, yeah, she’s way too excited about this.

* * *

It’s Liz who theorizes that the piece has somehow connected itself to Alex’s brain. “He’s not processing sensory input anymore,” Liz sounds fascinated. “But _it_ is.”

“So how do we fix it?” Kyle asks. Michael can’t believe he’s siding with Kyle, of all people, but he is. If it were anyone else, maybe he’d be fascinated by it. He turns his attention back to Alex’s face while they discuss, taking in the way those ever present worry lines are gone, the horrifying way his expressive face is slack. What he wouldn’t give to see Alex give someone a withering look right now.

“I’m not sure,” he hears Liz say. “It would help if we could get an idea of what’s going on in there.”

“Huh?” Isobel asks. He doesn’t have to see her to know she had been busy looking at her phone and missed that Liz was talking to her.

“We need you to go into Alex’s… Or maybe the piece’s?... One of their minds and figure out how they’re connected. And how to separate them.”

“And you think I’ll understand any of that?” Isobel asks.

“Just go in there and tell us what you find,” Liz responds. He can practically hear her eye roll.

Things are silent for a moment, Alex too still under his gaze.

And then there’s the loud sound of Isobel retching. “I can’t get anywhere in there. I don’t know _how_ you expect me to find anything.”

That’s when he turns his attention to her. She doesn’t look well at all, already taking gulps from the acetone bottle she stashes in her purse.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get anywhere’?” He’s heard that too many times from Isobel about anyone she can’t influence.

“Not like _you_ ,” she says quickly. “You’re like standing in the middle of a tornado. It’s chaos, but… There’s probably some sense to it. He’s like… Trying to break into Fort Knox. His walls have walls. Maybe a moat. You know what I mean!” She sounds exasperated.

Michael sighs, “Try again. We can’t give up on him.”

“Excuse me, _you_ try,” she says angrily. And then freezes. “Wait, you should try,” her voice calmer, like it’s a revelation. “He might let you in.”

“I spent a fucking decade trying to get past those walls, Iz,” Michael replies. “And now? I’m the last person he’d want to let in.” Alex may be skilled at hiding it, but Michael has spent far too long trying to hurt him for Alex to just let him wander around in his mind.

Liz frowns, “Can you try bringing one of us in? Maybe Maria? She’s already psychic. Could be easier?”

“Yeah, sure,” Isobel replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m going to try to get him to open up to the friend who is banging his ex. That sounds like a great plan.”

“Do we have other options?” Liz asks.

* * *

Maria swipes blood away from under her nose when she’s done. “He’s not letting me in. I can _feel_ him. But I can’t communicate with him.”

“So he’s still in there, then,” Liz asks the question Michael wanted to before he can speak.

“It’s not… good,” Maria’s voice is soft as she sits down on the other side of the bed, stroking up and down Alex’s arm. “It’s like he’s given up. He feels _defeated_. I don’t think we’ll get him out of there unless one of us can change that.”

Michael feels everyone’s eyes on him. He just glances over at Maria, already aware he should feel guilty for what he’s about to do.

She just shrugs, “I don’t know how you feel about him, Guerin, but… He’s one of my best friends. And you’re his best shot right now.”

“Oh, he loves Alex,” Isobel not so helpfully chimes in.

Michael turns to glare at her, but he pauses when he feels Maria’s hand on his arm, “I could maybe love you someday. But I love Alex. And Alex loves you. I shouldn’t have- This should have been over a long time ago. It shouldn’t have ever started.”

“You sure?” he asks for confirmation.

She just nods. He can see her fighting off her tears, knows that it won’t be easy for her, that he’s already hurt her enough by dragging her into the middle of this thing he has with Alex, but he nods in return and turns his attention to Alex.

Michael isn’t as practiced as Isobel at this. He’s only managed to do it a couple of times, always on people who are easy targets, according to Isobel. But he pushes forward in his mind, pushes outward and into Alex’s head.

He slips in surprisingly easily, but not all the way. There’s that barrier Isobel mentioned, like a wall holding him off from Alex.

He mentally launches himself at it, tries to force his way through for a long time. He wears himself out doing it. He’s sure this is when Isobel had given up, but this is Alex. And giving up may mean losing him completely.

“Goddammit, Alex!” he shouts at him in his mind. “Let me the fuck in! We need to talk!”

No response at all.

He spends a long time just screaming and fighting against that barrier. He can’t give up on Alex. He _can’t_ lose him like this. But, finally, he collapses in that empty space, lets himself stop fighting, just leans against that barrier, stroking it gently like he wishes he could be touching Alex. “Do you remember that morning I woke up to you in my Airstream?” he asks softly. “That’s the happiest I’ve been in a decade. Since we were teenagers in that toolshed. I let myself hope that, just maybe, you’d stay. And then Isobel showed up and… We never can get the timing right, can we? I put it all on you before, but it’s not just you. It’s me too. Every time I start to hope, either you push me away or _I_ … I’m so scared of what happens when I let myself think I can finally have it. And I push you away. I push you into leaving me. Because it’s easier to blame you. And I know you’ll come back to me sooner or later.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “I need you to let me in, Alex. I can’t lose you. Not for good. So… You can keep me out of there and I’ll just wait here until it kills me. Or you can choose to let me in. Either way, I’m not leaving you. And I’m not letting you just leave me without a fight. Not this time.”

It’s silent for so long and then, suddenly, overwhelming. Chaos. Pain.

He’s rocketing through memories of what he assumes is Alex’s childhood, an adorable boy with dark hair and tearstained cheeks, sobbing as a woman with long dark hair, Alex’s mom, he assumes, gets into a car and drives away.

An older Alex, by a few years anyway, awkward, but still sweet. And Jesse Manes with that terrifying expression Michael remembers from the toolshed, screaming about how no child of his will be a ‘freak’.

He feels the slap like it is him receiving it, feels the fear and shame. And he feels Alex beneath it all, his defiance. The boy he fell in love with, already clawing to get out.

And then there’s a teenaged Kyle Valenti, shoving Alex into the lockers, pushing him down.

There are brief moments of joy. Laughing with Rosa and Liz and Maria over milkshakes at The Crashdown.

More pain, more abuse, more of all of it, as Alex grows older and more defiant, into the boy Michael fell in love with.

And then he sees himself. And feels hope and joy and overwhelming love. So much love Michael can’t help but be blown away by it. Alex _loved_ him. More than himself, more than anything.

He sees that moment he remembers so well when Alex’s father came in, but he sees it from _Alex’s_ eyes. Feels Alex’s fear and heartbreak. Feels Alex’s shame after, after he’s managed to get out and away. And Alex is carefully cleaning up his blood, tears streaming down his beautiful face.

He sees Jesse Manes demanding Alex join the Air Force, feels Alex’s shame and fear mixing together. He feels the moment Alex lets go of all of his dreams.

It’s mostly a blur, after that. Basic, war, brief moments of joy when he came home on leave.

He’s there the moment Alex loses his leg, feels the agony Alex is in, smells the warm metallic scent of far too much blood. He’s filled with fear, not for himself, but for Michael. Even now, he’s afraid for Michael. He’s left watching as Alex reaches over and frantically removes a belt from another soldier’s body. A _friend’s_ body. He is watching as Alex wraps it tight around his own calf, cutting off the blood flow. He knows Alex is determined to do whatever it takes to make it home. To _him_.

Waking up in a hospital bed alone. Always alone. Alex isn’t crying, won’t let himself, but Michael can’t stop the tears rolling down his face, the guilt. He should have been there for Alex. _Someone_ should have been there for Alex.

He sees Alex talking to Maria at The Wild Pony, Maria saying how “home can be a person”. He knows this is the day before Alex showed up at his Airstream again to talk about them. The start of the happiest few days of his entire life.

He can feel that overwhelming love again and that little bit of hope that, maybe, it can work out this time.

But, of course, he knows it doesn’t. It’s only now that he sees why though. Feels the fear Alex felt when Isobel showed up. And that same fear when his father talked to him at the drive in.

He feels Alex give up. Until Kyle Valenti, of all people, shows up. And then that defiant side Michael loves so much is clawing back to the surface and Alex is fighting again. Fighting back for the first time in more than a decade.

Alex, pushing him away and then pulling him back. He feels Alex’s love and the hope burning in him, the hope that, this time, now that his father is out of the way…

Alex, going to Maria for support. Maria, pointing out that Alex loves him. That he’s hopeful. The painful realization of what he’s done to both of them.

Alex, waiting for him, only for him to never show up. The knowledge he was busy with Maria.

Alex, at his home, so hopeful and filled with love for him. All Alex had wanted to do was love him.

He’s telling Alex he’s not good for him, that he doesn’t want him, and it’s like he can feel Alex’s own feelings of worthlessness. Like he doesn’t think he’s worth being loved. Never enough. Not good enough.

He watches himself tell Alex that he likes Maria. And he feels that little bit of hope that Alex has been holding onto sputter out and die. But that love is still there, as strong as ever.

It’s overwhelming. He can’t handle Alex’s pain, so similar to his own, but so much worse because this is _Alex_. And Michael _knows_ he deserves better than what he has. Alex doesn’t seem to think he does.

He sees Alex seeing him with Maria, the regret, the pain, the guilt over his own negative feelings. Like he doesn’t deserve to feel pain. Like he’s not good enough because he’s suffering.

He feels that love from Alex still, that determination to love both Michael and Maria, no matter how much it hurts. Because he’s convinced they both deserve joy and love. And he doesn’t.

And then, finally, _finally_ , he’s out of the memories and standing in front of Alex.

He can feel the piece working its way through him, _changing_ him into something else.

“Let it go, Alex,” he breathes, stepping as close as he dares. He doesn’t even know how much of Alex is left in there, how much time he has left to save him. Or how to do it.

“I can fix it,” Alex’s voice is steady, his face blank. “You said I couldn’t, but I can. I can give you your mom back. I can give you your people back. I can give you the family and the home you always deserved.” A smile breaks across his face and Michael is absolutely certain that his heart is truly breaking for good.

“You can’t, darlin’. Let go of that piece,” he steps closer, easing toward him, afraid to startle him.

“It’s so easy,” Alex breathes. “Let me show you.”

And he can see it. His mom is smiling at him, safe and whole. They’re living in a community. On Earth. Passing for human, some of them leaving, but all of them safe. Isobel and Max are there and they’re happy. Max and Liz with an adorable half-human child. Isobel and Rosa, happily married.

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Until he realizes what’s missing.

“What happens to you?” he asks, choking back a sob.

“It doesn’t matter, Michael. You’re happy. You’ll never have to know me at all. I won’t be missing. I’ll never exist at all.” Alex’s voice and his face are both too calm for what Michael is certain he’s talking about.

“No,” he pushes the world Alex is showing him away, pushes past it and back to Alex. “ _No._ ”

“I can wipe out generations of Manes men in an instant, protect your people from all of that suffering. Dig out the tree by its roots. Set fire to it, salt the earth.” He sounds happy about that, like he’s not talking about wiping himself out too.

It hits Michael that he has spent so long talking about the evil of Manes men. Calling Alex one of them. Treating him like one of them. Taking his anger at all of them out on Alex, thinking Alex would just take it, like he always does. Not thinking about what it was doing to him. That it was doing _this_ to him.

“Alex, you can’t,” he pleads.

“You’re so happy and loved,” his voice is soft, his gaze distant, a smile on his face. “You all are. You’re happy. I can give you that.”

Michael moves closer still, close enough to touch, grabbing Alex’s elbows, trying to make him see _him_. “I love _you_.”

“I know.” It’s the first time Alex’s eyes meet Michael’s and he chokes back another sob when their familiar warmth hits him. “I love you too. But you’re right. We’re not good for each other. I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you. My family is the worst thing that ever happened to you. I can fix that.” Alex’s tone is so calm, accepting. Maria had said he was defeated and she was right. He’s given up on himself entirely.

“You are not responsible for what your family has done, Alex! You’re not responsible for fixing it!” He needs to make Alex see that, no matter what he has said in the past.

“But I can.” And then Alex is smiling at him so fondly that it would break Michael’s heart if it weren’t already in the process of breaking. Maybe for good. He knows that, if he loses Alex, it will be irreperable. “Loving you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re the best thing in my life, okay? And I’m going to give you the life you deserve to have.”

It’s instinct that has Michael diving forward, grabbing onto the piece with both hands.

Alex’s smile fades slowly.

Michael can feel the piece infecting him, worming its way into his body, changing him like he can feel it changing Alex. If he were able to focus on anything but Alex, he’d be fascinated by how it can change him while he’s in Alex’s head, but it could never do that to him if he were in his own body.

“Let go of it, Michael,” Alex’s voice is steady and firm.

“No. You’re gonna let it burn you up to change things, you gotta let it burn me up too.” He knows without having to think about it that that’s what this piece will do if Alex uses it to change things. It will burn them both up, take all their energy and pour it into changing time. Maybe that Alex-less Michael will exist in some other universe, but Alex will have to kill _him,_ this Michael, to do it.

“Let go. Let me give you the life you should have had.” There’s no anger in Alex’s tone, just that commanding, soldier tone Michael almost never hears.

“You let go first,” Michael’s voice is soft but firm. He won’t budge. Not until Alex does.

They’re locked there for a moment that feels like an eternity.

And then Alex’s hands fall to his sides and Michael is throwing the piece as far as he can, listening to the sound of it shattering into countless pieces.

* * *

Michael opens his eyes to find himself laying on that ugly pink comforter, someone next to him.

The world seems to spin as he turns and he tries not to vomit, but Isobel is right there with a bucket right in time. He can’t even look at her, but he knows exactly the face she’s making.

When he can finally open his eyes without everything spinning, after he’s downed at least a bottle and a half of nail polish remover, he sees that Alex is next to him on the bed, the ship piece gone from his hands, laying in the middle of the floor, shattered.

Alex is still burning up though, still clearly affected by whatever had already started to change his system.

In spite of what his better judgment would probably tell him to do, Michael reaches his hand underneath the edge of Alex’s shirt, pressing against his chest, and pushing what little energy he has into him while pulling out every last thing that piece had put in him.

He can’t hold it either, but he knows how to release it, how to let it escape harmlessly from his body and into the universe. And he does, letting it pour out of him, watching the glowing matter escape up and out of the bunker before he collapses next to Alex and everything goes dark.

* * *

Maria is sitting there, watching him when he wakes. But the first thing he does is scramble to reach for Alex, absolutely terrified when he can’t find him.

“He’s fine,” Maria’s voice is far too even. “Or maybe not fine. Upstairs with Kyle though.”

She looks far calmer than she had before he had gone into Alex’s head, but he still knows he’s hurt her. “I’m sorry I-”

“Save your apologies for Alex, Guerin,” her voice is firm and professional as she stands. “Stay away from The Wild Pony for a few weeks, take care of my friend, and we’ll be fine.”

He watches as she makes her way up the ladder and out and he stretches before following her.

“He’s asleep,” Kyle says, holding out a cup of coffee when Michael emerges. “Unless you were looking to follow her?”

Michael shakes his head, taking the coffee gratefully. “He gonna be okay?”

“Physically?” Kyle asks. “Yeah. No permanent damage. But…” Kyle hesitates before continuing. “I need you to help me convince him to get help. Therapy. Preferably inpatient.” And then, in a rush, “I know you hate me, but he’s a mess, man. He needs more help than we can give him and, I know you’re used to handling things on your own, but… I _know_ you love him. So you need to do what’s best for him right now.”

“I know,” Michael admits, looking at the coffee cup.

“You- Wait, what?”

He looks up just in time to see Kyle’s shocked expression. It would almost be entertaining, if he weren’t so worried. “I was in there. I know how bad it is,” he admits softly. “Gonna have to wait until that handprint is gone though.”

“Oh. Okay, Good,” Kyle replies quickly.

Michael continues to drink his coffee, ignoring Kyle, as he walks away, in search of Alex’s bedroom.

He looks beautiful in his sleep now that that is what it is. Face peaceful, dark lashes fanned across golden skin. He shifts a little and mumbles something and Michael feels like he can finally breathe again. Alex is safe. Alex is here. He’ll find a way to fight for Alex until Alex is ready to fight for himself like he always fights for Michael.

He waits until Alex’s warm brown eyes open, blinking sleepily for a few moments before fixing on him. “Guerin,” his voice is rough with sleep but absolutely perfect. “What are you doing here?”

“That console piece almost killed you. Or don’t you remember?” he asks, tone light.

“Fuck, right,” Alex buries his head in his hands for a moment before looking up and continuing, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I just… I didn’t want to lose you. Not that that’s an excuse. I was being selfish. And I should have given it to you when I found out what it was. I’m sorry.”

Michael shakes his head, “I think we’re way past that, Alex.”

Alex looks away, toward the wall. “You’re right. I’m… Look, I’ll do what you want. I’ll get out of your life. Stay away. You’ll never have to-”

Michael doesn’t know how it’s possible Alex could have misinterpreted him so much, but he has. “I don’t care about the fucking piece, Alex!” He bursts to his feet, almost cursing when Alex flinches in response. But he takes a breath, a step back, and waits for Alex to look at him before he continues, voice softer, “You know how many times I thought about stealin’ your dog tags or something so you’d stay? I get it. I wish you would’ve _talked_ to me, but that’s not exactly our strongsuit, is it?”

Alex looks down at the bedspread and shakes his head.

“You scared me half to death, you know? I thought I was going to lose you,” he says softly, climbing onto the bed next to Alex hesitantly. “I think… I know you need to get help, Alex. I’ll make sure Kyle finds you someone good, but… You were going to kill yourself because you thought it would make my life better.”

“I’ve only ever made your life worse,” Alex objects.

Michael shakes his head. He can think of only one way to make Alex see how much he means to him. “Can I show you something?”

Alex looks at him questioningly, but he nods, so Michael reaches forward, placing his hand over the handprint he left on Alex’s chest and he waits for Alex’s nod.

When he gets it, he pushes all of his happiest memories of Alex to the forefront. The moment Alex brought him that first guitar and said that sometimes people could be kind for no reason. The look on Alex’s face after he kissed him that first time, like he couldn’t quite believe it had happened, like he was in awe, like he wanted more. The way Alex laughed that first time in the toolshed, how beautiful he looked, so open and free. The way he held Michael, touched him like he was precious. Memory after memory of having Alex in his arms.

When he’s done, tears are streaming down Alex’s face. He doesn’t speak, so Michael simply cups his face between his hands and says, “You make my life better just by being in it, darlin’. I need you to stay in it. Do you think you can do that for me?” He wishes he thought that Alex could choose to do that for himself, but he doesn’t think he can right now.

Alex finally nods.

“Good. And, when this fades,” he presses his hand against the mark he left on Alex’s chest. “You’ll get help?”

Alex nods again.

“Good.” He takes a breath and smiles at Alex the best he can. “Now, do you think I can hold you for a bit? Because you just scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry-” Alex starts, voice weighed down with guilt.

“Don’t be sorry,” Michael shakes his head. He lays back on the bed and opens his arms for Alex, waits while Alex gets comfortable, curled up into him. Then he presses a kiss to Alex’s dark hair. “Just stay.”


End file.
